At Talula's Pizza in Asbury Park, a progressive Brooklyn mindset

Shanti Church and Steve Mignogna, in order to create a more authentic life -- and the perfect pizza dough -- quit their day jobs and built a wood-burning oven in a back yard in Tarrytown, N.Y. They made pizza and more pizza, occasionally a chicken or a whole fish.

And then this couple, a California girl and an engineer with an Ivy League degree, spent three months traveling around the country to dine firsthand at pioneering restaurants in Detroit, Nashville and the like. Business plan in hand, they settled on a spot in Beacon, N.Y., a now-quaint, once-industrial town that has been hailed as the next haven for artistic New Yorkers.

But Beacon wasn't working, and a family friend in the real estate business suggested Asbury Park. From the first visit, says Church, it felt right.

A few months later, and well before the restaurant's first summer season, Tulula's already is packed, often too crowded to find a seat during prime Saturday hours. Some folks are already stopping by three times a week.

The appeal is a menu that's remarkably simple. Bread and butter. Pizza. Salads.
The simplicity is intentional. And deceptive, say the owners. The sourdough bread is made in house, by baker Josh Stewart, who so believes in bread that he once ran Backwoods Bakery, a bread share program in Redondo Beach. The pizzas and salads are made with local ingredients, straight from like-minded folks at Seven Arrows East, a sustainable farm in Rumson, or Zone 7, a company that delivers fresh produce from area farms.

The reverence given the bread ($5) is deserved. It's hearty and rustic but not dense. Alongside is a pat of fresh, herbed butter and some olive oil with honey, which seemed too precious.

And the abundant salads — a fall kale salad ($11), with roasted kobocha squash, pumpkin seeds and pecorino, and a fennel salad ($11), with sunchokes, citrus and golden raisins — are both crisp and delightful, with just the right cling of vinaigrette.

But it's the pizzas that shine, six options, small or large, topped with a tumble of gourmet ingredients. The most unusual is perhaps the Beekeepers Lament, with hot Calabrian soppressata and local honey. The pizza dough will remind you of naan, warm and pillowy but also sturdy. The toppings are as advertised, fresh and local and nourishing, and the combinations are exceptionally well-balanced.

However, we struggled to find bacon on the bacon and Brussels sprouts pizza ($16), which also included fresh mozzarella, fresh ricotta, some pecorino and a pistachio salsa verde. And although we admired the gently seductive coupling of ingredients on the Rocket pizza, with fresh mozzarella, gouda, lemon and garlic, we also tired of the fresh arugula topping.

Yes, it's commonplace, this dense blanket of fresh arugula, but it overwhelms. Why not wilt it?

Special toasts are the most intriguing items on the menu, ambitious combinations to showcase the bread. A great idea. But a spicy herb pesto toast ($6), made with jalepeno pesto, had too much of an edge.

And yet, it's early in the process. Church worked at Roberta's and discussed pizza philosophy at length with guru Paul Giannone of Paulie Gee's. Talula's, you sense, is the beginning of an important collaboration with local artisans and farmers. It's fun, and it's real, and its owners are earnest.

It's such a jolt sometimes, says Church, to have realized the dream. She and Mignogna often catch each other's eyes across the restaurant. "Can you believe this?